Refusing To Fly
by Lady Of Embers
Summary: Five years after the events of Fable II, Sparrow lives alone in the cemetery mansion, deaf to Albion's cries. That is, until Reaver gets offered an egregious sum of gold to persuade her otherwise...
1. Chapter 1

It all started off normally.

I was docking back home in Bloodstone, because I'd been from Samarkand to Albion, and quite frankly I was glad to be back. Spending five years in that dusty, boring, pedantic hellhole had done wonders for my patience. I now routinely shot fewer people and my skin had a glowing golden tinge. Anyway, we were docking when I spotted a squad of white-shirt guards on the docks. I drew my pistol and approached them warily.

"Are you Reaver, sah?" Asked one.

"Yes. What of it?" I replied cautiously.

"The council of Albion understands that you were once a friend of the Hero known as Sparrow?"

"Oh yes, that girl. Why?" The guards coughed and looked slightly awkward.

"She's not being a Hero anymore." My brow quirked.

"Fancy that. She was so turbo-charged when I knew her." I commented.

"Yes, well, something about the townspeople not protecting some bloke named Alex. Anyway, the point is, Albion is in chaos. We're currently conducting a sort of census, putting all of the citizens of Albion through a test to see if any of them are Heroes. We desperately need them back, you see. But we've tried sending envoys to speak with Ms. Sparrow and she's never replied. Not for about three years." I rolled my eyes.

"That doesn't concern me." I reminded them.

"Actually, it does. You see, the councillors have come together and decided that they'll pay you an egregious sum of gold if you can persuade her to get back to her Hero duties."

"Why me? She doesn't like me."

"Because you're a Hero too, sah. We figured that perhaps you two could…talk about it or something and…well…get her back on her feet. You know, whatever it takes. Bribery, a new sword, a new dog. I mean, you're popular with women." I squared my shoulders, one eyebrow raised at the 'whatever it takes' speech. I knew what it might take. And thank goodness for that.

"Alright. Where is she?"

"Bowerstone Cemetery. She lives in the mansion there. Did it up nice and proper." My brow quirked again. Bowerstone Cemetery, eh? Sounded like little Sparrow was trying to avoid people.

"I'll try. But promise me that I'll get half that egregious sum for trying."

"Uh, okay."

"Deal. Gentlemen, get back on that bloody ship. We're going to Westcliff."

After leaving my men in the capable hands of the local whores, I caught a carriage to Bowerstone Market and relaxed in my own beauty. That they had asked for my help to bring Sparrow around was rather flattering, if a little futile. Last time I saw her, she'd just made a wish to resurrect a few hundred thousand strangers because of all that 'morality' rubbish that she had on her hands. Very pretty, very blonde-and-blue bedecked in red rubbish, but rubbish just the same. Besides, she'd made it clear about that particular subject. She killed evil people and avoided everyone. Those had been her morals before she'd got married, and I imagined they were the same since that certain man's death. Ah, love. How easy it was to break a heart!

Bowerstone Market came into view as the carriage rumbled through the gates. I got off, paid the greedy bastard and ambled confidently through the summer sunshine. I asked directions to Bowerstone Cemetery and was pointed down a rather depressing street, then told to ask for further instructions in Bowerstone Old Town. The name 'Old Town' rang a bell and I just about remembered Sparrow muttering something about seeing something in Old Town near her old home. So she'd grown up here, apparently. It was rather pretty, in its own way, and as I asked once more for directions to the Cemetery, I couldn't help but wonder how Sparrow could have begrudged growing up here. Then I remembered something else. Sparrow had talked somewhat about her life in Old Town when she was young. She'd described it as something like Bloodstone, run by criminals and frequented by whores. I walked down a set of steps and turned, walking through a set of gates and on the path to the Cemetery.


	2. Chapter 2

The Cemetery Mansion was quite impressive. I crossed the minute bridge over to its gardens and noted the impressive architecture. Solid stone, with large, green glass windows and a high roof comprised the outside building. It was attractive.

_It's not as attractive as its resident is, however. I wonder if Sparrow has changed much in five years?_

Knowing that fine specimen's luck, she would have gotten younger. I smirked and knocked on the door.

"Sparrow, are you in?" I heard light movement from inside. Then the door opened of its own accord. "Of course. Bloody haunted houses." I muttered, then turned as the door closed. Because behind that door was a rather embarrassed looking Sparrow. And she had reason to be. She was in her underwear and her hair was messy and she looked slightly sleepy. In other words, she looked good enough to eat. I smirked at her, and she blushed.

"Reaver?" She asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Not much. Just seeing how my dear sweet Sparrow is getting on in Albion without her companions. And apparently she's getting on with boycotting her duties." She drew a deep sigh.

"I wondered if that was the case. I don't want to go back and help them, you know." She said, walking through into her sitting room.

"Why ever not?" I asked, following her. She sat on her sofa.

"What did they ever do for me? Why were there no guards around when Lucien killed my family? Why did no one see anything? They didn't try to protect my family, so I didn't try to protect them." I laughed.

"Sparrow, you're adopting my principles here." I told her. She rolled her eyes.

"You're just a prat." She replied. "I've spent my entire life hunting down Lucien and helping Albion only to be kicked in the face when my family was shot and nobody helped _them_. Why should I? All I've put into this job is work."

"I noticed from your physiognomy. How are you staying in shape, anyway?" I asked, curious. She still looked good, even though she was supposedly retired.

"Hollow Men desecration and celery." Came the blunt reply. "I don't drink or eat anything with legs."

"So you're getting your protein from what, exactly?"

"Fish. Good for the brain. Surely you know that?"

"Perhaps I did. But surely that's not all? Are you getting any?"

"No."

"How long?"

"The day I returned to you in Bloodstone after that 'talk' with the Shadow Court was the last day I had sex."

"Five years. My, you must be aching."

"It's not difficult. Abstinence was a particular forte of mine."

"I see." I had been leaning against the wall all this time. Now I sat down and pulled her onto my lap.

"What are you doing?" She asked, as my hands trailed down. Her skin twitched with anticipation under my fingers.

"You haven't got any for five years. My dear, I almost pity you." I pulled my gloves off and slipped two fingers down her underwear. She suddenly gripped my shoulders and leaned over. I supposed that was so I didn't see her face. She was getting warm to the touch and shivering slightly. After about a minute she made a noise and I knew it had worked.

"How did you do that? It's like you know how everything worked already! Even Alex couldn't do that." She gasped, pulling back. Her face was flushed and I smirked.

"Practise, my dear. What else?" Her fingers still gripped my shoulders. "You can let go now. You have a grip like a vice, my love." I commented. She blushed and let go. I put the gloves back on and ran my fingers experimentally over her back. Her hand came back to my shoulder and tightened. I continued as she repeated the action with her other hand and pushed me down so that she was lying on me. "What an interesting position for you to willingly put yourself into. I have no objections whatsoever." My hands crept to her hips, pinning her to me.

"Reaver, uh, what can I say? It's been a while." She stuttered, blushing.

"Well, I know what I can say." I purred.

"What?" She asked, attempting (or was that pretending?) to struggle out of my grip.

"Either I can take you here, slightly less dignified and probably quickly, or I can carry you upstairs because I'm sure you have a bed here." From her attempted struggles I gathered she wanted to keep her dignity intact. I slipped onto the floor, then got up and picked her up with me. Then I carried her up the stairs to her room.

"It's a nice place." I admitted.

"I spent a while getting it fixed. There was a massive hole in the floor when I bought it." She replied, as I set her down on her bed. She tensed slightly.

"Relax." I whispered, kicking off my shoes and pulling her closer. "Mmm, I've been waiting to do this since I met you, gorgeous little minx."

"Since when?"

"I just said, since I met you. Unfortunately there was an issue with your being involved in a quest to free the world from a madman, and me being the final Hero, so there really wasn't time to get frisky." I ghosted my fingers over her skin. She reacted by kissing me. _This is very pleasant_, I decided, rolling over and pinning her beneath me before kissing her back. She bit me slightly and somewhere in my mind I chuckled. Interesting that such a refined, moral woman was still prone to attacks of animal instinct sometimes. And me? Well, I pretty much lived the words 'animal instinct.'


	3. Chapter 3

What woke me early the next morning was a gentle breeze. I opened my eyes to see Sparrow raising the duvet to get out of bed. I chuckled slightly, pleased with my success.

"If all it took was giving you what nobody can live without, that was easy, pleasurable money." I purred. She snorted, pulling her hair into its usual style and getting up. I admired every curve in her body before she pulled on her underwear and clothes. She turned to me, sheathing her sword.

"I'm not resuming my Hero duties. It's just killing Hollow Men and Hobbes before breakfast. Speaking of which, go make your own. I'll be back in half an hour." She strode towards the stairs and I leapt out of bed, catching her arm. I dismissed the fact that I was naked as I pinned her against the wall.

"Well, well, well. You're a player, aren't you? I was so sure that doing this would persuade you." I whispered, leaning forward and lining her neck with kisses.

"It takes more than just a swift session-"

"Swift? My dear lady, that lasted for quite a while. Swift is not the word I'd use to describe it." She rolled her eyes, tutting.

"Fine, it takes more than a session with the admittedly Great Reaver to persuade me back into Hero business. Albion ignored the plea for help from two small children once before-now I'm ignoring it." She pushed me away and began down the stairs.

"Well, this is certainly veering off from my principles." I called down to her. She raised her hand in acknowledgement. "I'll keep the bed warm, my sweet." I added. She let out a sigh of impatience and continued away.

There was little else to do, so I got dressed and raided her cupboards for food. I found a lot of fish and celery. Seemed like it was celery and fish for breakfast. I sat down and began eating, admiring my surroundings. The kitchen was about seven feet across and rather homely. Everything was polished and clean, probably due to the fact that she had a lot of time on her hands and so therefore cleaned regularly. I wondered what else she did with her time and made up my mind to ask her when she returned. As I was putting my plate in the sink she clattered through the door, taking off her hat and coat and grabbing her breakfast from the cupboards. I smiled slightly at her and she gave me a confused look.

"My little Sparrow, just what exactly do you do in your spare time?" I asked, watching her.

"I clean the house, fix up the crap in the basement, occasionally experiment with whatever is there and read. I also kill Hollow Men and Hobbes and give the mourners in the graveyard unfriendly looks. There's not much else to do around here. Besides, whenever I'm bored, I make things. Just little designs and fun things, but it gets me through." I gazed at her, my head tilted sideways, and tilted her tanned chin up with my finger.

"My dear, whatever happened to your scars?" I asked, nonchalant. I clearly remembered her sporting two rather impressive scars on her arrival at my mansion all those years ago, and they'd rather defined her renegade look.

"They vanished when I made my wish. Seems that selflessness has its own rewards, although the golden halo is slightly annoying sometimes." She replied, waving her hand through the lighted circlet that hovered about her head. "It's why I eat fish. It takes down my purity and reduces the halo." I smirked.

"So, you're not all perfection, are you?"

"Certainly not. If I were, you wouldn't be here, for a start. You'd be at home in Bloodstone getting laid with a whore." I winked at her.

"I don't have to be in Bloodstone." I whispered, and the hand that had tilted her chin now caressed her collarbone. I pulled gently at her clothes until she flapped at me.

"Not now. I'm not in the mood."

"Oh, you don't have to be." I murmured, getting up and sliding my arms around her. "And even if you aren't I can make sure that you are." I slid my fingers under her tunic and pushed them upwards, smirking confidently when she gasped.

"Reaver, your fingers are freezing!" She gasped, and pushed her chair back hurriedly, getting to her feet. The smirk stayed plastered to my face.

"Well, I think I need to warm them up. And I know just the activity for it." I pushed the girl into the wall, until both of us were pressed up against each other. Sparrow's cheeks were glowing with that sudden heat you get when you're ready for it.

"R-Reaver, why don't you just bugger off back to the guards, get your money and leave?" She asked, as my fingers worked at the belt of her trousers.

"Because, my dear, the prospect of getting sex from you, plus money AND adoration from the guards who hired me is far too appealing to resist. And I really haven't seen you for a while. You're a cute little thing. If only you were a proper Hero." I lamented slightly. She scowled at me and tried to gently push me away, only to be pushed herself back into the wall by my hand on her stomach.

"That won't persuade me, Reaver." She warned, rubbing my leg with her foot.

"Does it matter?" I purred, and watched her slowly shake her head. Perfect.


	4. Chapter 4

We'd spent the day passing looks at each other, hers cautious and annoyed, mine inviting and speculating. She'd shown me some of the things she'd created, and I in return had looked them over before returning my eyes to every tight part of her clothing. But that night brought something else. Sparrow jumped into her bed and fell asleep. I took longer. Halfway through, she began moaning three names. Alex, Rose and Timothy. Then it just switched to Rose. And then she began crying. She sat bolt upright, suddenly awake, and staring into space, her eyes wide and filled with tears.

"I've killed my sister, haven't I?" She whispered.

"What on earth do you mean?" I grumbled.

"I could've brought back my family. Alex…Tim…Rose…but instead I chose to return strangers."

"Well, finally it kicks in." I muttered.

"Don't mock me!" She cried, in an agonised screech. "Every-_frigging_-night, the same nightmare. My family looks at me disapprovingly, as though by choosing to save others I've let them down. And my own little dog, just _whining_ at me like I've broken his heart. I hated that noise when he was alive. I _loathed _it. It's not FAIR! Why couldn't I have had two wishes? I didn't want thousands of gold. I just wanted everyone to be happy. I guess I wasn't in the equation. Damnit!" She picked up her pillow and threw it at the opposite wall. "I hate Theresa! Surely such a massive object of power could've done all three. She was so bloody keen to keep it." The tears began to flow again, thick and fast, splashing onto the duvet. What could I offer except condolences? I knew how it felt to be plagued by endless nightmares of what could have been. But Sparrow and I were different in that context. She was hardened, tough, but favoured others over herself (well, before they'd let her family die, of course.) I, on the other hand, had chosen to sacrifice to the Shadows and take my eternal youth. I was for me. No one else mattered. But to Sparrow, all that had mattered once was revenge. I had never felt vengeful against anyone, being above them in so many ways. I got out the bed and retrieved the pillow. Then I chucked it back to her and lay back in the bed.

"Honestly, dwelling on what could have been is dangerous for the soul, Sparrow. Trust me." I warned her. She sighed, and suddenly I found a pair of arms wrapped around my torso, with Sparrow pulling herself onto me.

"Then help me forget." She whispered faintly. I secured her in a hug and chuckled dryly to her.

"If someone had told me, five years ago, that the Hero of Bowerstone would one day be begging me to sleep with her, I would've been delighted but rather disbelieving." I told her, running fingers through her golden hair and over her back. So, she wanted to forget what had happened, hmmm? Well, this was going to be more than passably fun.

There was sunlight glancing off my eyelids when I awoke. It was late, perhaps eleven in the morning. I glanced up and my brow raised. Sparrow was asleep bang on next to me, one arm around my back, her hand gripping mine in an almost childlike manner. I appeared to a warm, human blanket for her. Oh, I didn't mind. If last night's antics were anything to go by, when she woke up she might go in for another. Sure enough, she groaned at something and slowly opened her eyes. When she saw what was happening she quickly slipped her arm out from behind me and let go of my hand, pulling away swiftly. I pulled her back, running my hands over her. Then I stopped. I could feel two new marks on her legs.

"Sparrow," I squeaked indignantly, "what HAVE you done to yourself? These…these…_scars_…" She grinned rebelliously at me.

"I _love_ them." She purred. "I've _always_ found the rugged look more my type. And you can blame the Hollow Men in Shelley Crypt for them." I raised a brow.

"So why are we sleeping together? I'm more of a refined person."

"Because you're trying to get some money off the guards, dimwit." She reminded me. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, of course. How could I forget? Oh, I know. Because I'm busy enjoying screwing you."

"You're _enjoying_ it? I didn't know I could live up to the standards of the Great Reaver."

"Trust me." Now it was my turn to purr. "You tick all the boxes."

"You have tick-boxes?"

"Of course."

"What are they?"

"1. You have to look good.

2. You have to be utterly helpless and compliant when I say so.

3. You have to be human.

4. You have to had some sort of experience before." She snorted with laughter.

"Great tick-boxes, my dear." She laughed at me. I pouted.

"But you're completely sexy and remember, it's that which keeps me from putting a bullet through your head. Don't get a big head now." She gave me a look.

"You've told me not to get a big head when you've openly just admitted you find me sexy. Interesting theology, Reaver." I pinned her on her back and began to ease her legs open.

"You're a renegade. You're tough. You appeal to my tastes far too much. Perhaps for your own good." I whispered, tracing her with my fingers. She sighed, small tremors running down her back.

"You're a prick." She reminded me, digging her fingers in when my hand dropped down her skin.

"Oh, but you like that." I murmured, and kissed her fiercely.


	5. Chapter 5

"Come on Sparrow," I whined, "let's go into Bowerstone Market today." She looked at me from the corner of her eyes while she adjusted her hat.

"Only because I need to buy food." She sighed, and got up. I smirked. SCORE! We headed out the door of the mansion, over the small bridge and on towards Bowerstone Old Town. She hurried fiercely through the love-struck citizens and onwards, unwittingly grabbing my hand at one point and pulling me along.

"Such impatience, my love. You're never this hurried in bed." I purred, and she flushed before stopping, turning to glare at me, and talking.

"I haven't got any in five years. You turn up and suddenly we're together every night and I won't deny it's enjoyable and most women would kill to be in my shoes, but just let me get my bearings and you'll be nursing a wounded crotch in Bloodstone before you know it." I pulled her closer, dancing with her. She recognised the steps.

"It's the tango. And for once, it's not the horizontal kind." She commented dryly. I chuckled.

"Always the satirist, isn't that so?" I twirled her around, not having the patience to lift her, and raised her hand to my lips. "You're a dancer, little Sparrow." I told her, and she smirked.

"I've had very little else to do with myself for five years. Whenever I saw a guard wandering near my mansion I'd go out and practise with him, then ask him to kindly leave."

"Ah, how cruel. The little bird loves and leaves them. You are cute." I whispered. The smirk remained plastered to her lips.

"I imagine the Great Reaver does much the same." I patted her rear.

"You know me _far_ too well, my dear." I warned her. The smirk vanished.

"Believe me, I know enough." She trudged away to by the week's rations-I mean food-and I watched as several men approached her, proposing. Every muscle seemed to stiffen. A couple of pretty girls approached me and began playing with their hair. A braver one began playing with _my_ hair. That was the one who found my arm around her waist. I heard an angry shout.

"Here, that's my wife." A short, stout man puffed over to me. Suddenly, his eyes took in my height, the obvious gun and my looks. He coughed. "I erm…please could you…that is to say…" I rolled my eyes.

"Spit it out, man." I commanded. The girl locked her fingers into my hair, giggling. He shot her a hurt look.

"Please, just return her." He begged. I slid my fingers over the girl's curvaceous frame.

"Give me the night, and she'll be yours." I promised. He walked away pathetically. "So, what's your name then, darling?" I cooed.

"Amanda." She replied. I heard a cough.

"You taking your victim back to mine, Reaver? Cause you're not screwing a stranger under my roof, I'm afraid to say. So either avail yourself of the pub's rooms or drop her." Sparrow's voice called. We turned and saw her packing her goods into her rucksack. The girl looked shocked.

"Miss Sparrow! He's with-oh, I'm so sorry, I would've never-I _am_ sorry!" She gasped. Sparrow looked at her questioningly. "I had no idea you'd remarried!" We both spluttered.

"_MARRIED?_"

"He's not really my type. Just good-looking and good in bed."

"She _is_ my type, but then again, anything is. And I don't do marriage. I'm immortal." I admonished the girl. She blushed.

"I'm _so _sorry. I won't push myself on your hospitality, Miss Sparrow. Please accept my deepest regrets." So saying, she scampered off after her husband. We watched her go.

"Fascinating." Sparrow grumbled. Then she turned to me. "Sorry to ruin your latest conquest. Seems everything I do gets gossiped about and no-one can touch anyone near me with a barge-pole." She apologised. I shrugged.

"There's always you." Her blue eyes rolled.

"Oh yes, now there's an alternative. Brunette stranger or the blonde Hero you met five years ago, betrayed twice and then met now and began screwing?" It took me a few moments to process the thought train, but I soon had a comment ready.

"Oh, the blonde Hero with all her assets, definitely. She's a spitfire. The brunette is just a lamb." Sparrow smirked.

"I thought you liked us 'compliant and helpless'." She commented, as we set off for Bowerstone Old Town.

"I do, but when the woman takes control…ooh. The thought makes me tingle." She laughed.

"You're disgusting in a rather good-looking way." She told me. My brow quirked.

"When I know what to make of that, my dear, I will tell you." I replied. She grinned.

"Sparrow-rendering people speechless since she met Reaver." She commented randomly. I slid a hand around her, just below her chest.

"So, when are you getting back to Hero life?" I asked, nonchalant, as we entered Bowerstone Cemetery. She sighed.

"I honestly don't know. This life is getting boring. And being a Hero is exciting. But those people that let my family die…" I groaned.

"Sparrow, it was only the people of Bowerstone who were neglectful. That doesn't warrant punishing the whole of Albion. Your theology, my dear, is as flawed as mine." I told her. She nodded slightly. I rolled my eyes.

"Maybe you're right."

"Listen, this is a heavy topic of discussion and it's now six in the evening. I suggest we do something about food and then have a long, hard, totally abandoned-"

"Okay, I get your point. You're hungry. In multiple senses." We crossed the bridge and she wandered into the mansion. I stayed outside, admiring the scene. She really did live in a rather pretty part of Bowerstone. Peaceful, though only because it was where the dead dwelled and few were brave enough to withstand the Hollow Men to visit their loved ones. She couldn't have chosen a nicer place. Well, if you liked that sort of thing. Me, I preferred the idea of a few more rough and ready people willing to give up a few hours of their time to experiment. But then again, Sparrow loved to be lonely, it appeared. I skipped daintily into the house and into the kitchen. Sparrow was cooking. She had her boots and coat off, and had taken her hair out of its usual child-like style. She looked womanly. Sweet. Almost vulnerable. And I loved vulnerability. As she set the food down I came up behind her and slipped my hands down the front of her trousers, pressing a kiss into her neck. She jumped and then weakened as I began exploring with my fingers. I was about to start 'helping' her when she twirled swiftly away and sat at the table.

"You really are rather one-minded, aren't you, Reaver?" She commented. I grinned.

"I try my best, darling, especially with someone like you." She smirked and we began to eat. Once we'd finished the meal, she cleared up and I raided her library. I was just reading about the Hero of Oakvale when she swept past, dropping her clothes as she went. I kid you not. Seriously. She paused at the doorway, looking at me expectantly. I simply unholstered the Dragonstomper and laid it on the table. That was enough for her. She smiled seductively at me and continued onward. I followed. She was still wearing some of her clothes and as I went to rid her of the pestilent things, she kissed me, then muttered something around my lips.

"I didn't quite catch that, my dear." I murmured, trailing my fingers across her torso.

"I said, you made a suggestion as to how this could go earlier. I have a feeling you're going to act on it." I smirked.

"Lie on the bed, Sparrow." I ordered. She obeyed. "Spread out." She did so. "Mmm, you've learnt compliance." I purred, pulling away her last remaining piece of clothing. "You're going to be fun." She smirked.

"I try my best, darling, especially with someone like you." She whispered. I chuckled dryly to myself as I leaned over to kiss her. She was one feisty little bird.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a different kind of intimacy that night. We tried so hard to keep it going until morning but alas, we were both tired out of our skulls and fell asleep, my arms wrapped around her, her back to my chest. Comfortable. Almost strange in its own way. I hadn't done that since a while back, with a firecracker from Bloodstone who chose not to desert me, as my other guests had, and slept by my side all night. I rewarded her loyalty thoroughly the next morning, I can assure you. The dawn light broke on us, rendering me half-blind, until I looked and saw a haze of gold spread across the pillow next to me. Ah, her hair. How lovely. I played with it, and she stirred.

"Oh, Reaver, that was just…" Were her waking words. My brow quirked.

"I can assure you, you weren't the only one." She smiled, turning over and pressing herself against me.

"Then let's do it again." She whispered, but as I hurried to obey her commands there were sharp raps on the downstairs door. We hurriedly dressed and I flung open the door to find one of my shipmates standing in the doorway.

"Master Reavah!" He drawled, his face white. "I got 'ere just this hour ago. There are three Pirate Lords besiegin' Bloodstone and we need yer help." I nodded.

"Do me a favour, Sparrow." I called to her, as she appeared at the top of the stairs. "Go find a quest and get off your lazy arse." I swept out the door, hearing Sparrow's outraged cry and smirking. That would get her moving.

Sparrow's P.O.V

My arse was not lazy. I'd show him. I furiously opened up my pouch and pulled out my fate cards, shuffling them. I found a quest called Evil in Wraithmarsh and set off to the Cow and Corset. There, I met a woman named Mrs Spade who explained that her two sons had always wanted to explore some place called Wraithmarsh. And now they were there. I understood completely and accepted the quest, tapping my Guild Seal and heading to Wraithmarsh. I shimmied down a ladder and heard two voices shouting for help. Voices I recognised. Max and Sam.

"I told you throwing biscuits at them would only make them angrier!"

"Well what was your idea?"

"Shouting for help!"

"Actually, that sounds like a good idea!"

"HELP!"

I rounded the corner and destroyed fifteen Hollow Men before coming face-to-face with the two men.

"Oh, Thankyou! Hey, don't we know you! You looked awfully familiar, killing Hollow Men." I rolled my eyes.

"Bowerstone Cemetery and the Normanomicon?" I probed.

"Ah." Twin blushes appeared on the mens' faces.

"The important thing is, it's all over."

"Well, not quite. Tell her."

"No, you tell her."

"Alright! The thing is, we found this cave, but we…accidentally-released-a-pretty-nasty-Banshee." Max blurted out.

"It's probably tearing up Bloodstone by now." Sam added. My eyes widened.

"Bloodstone?" I squeaked.

"Anyway, we should probably get going, back to mum."

"Yeah. Once it's safe." I wasted no time in hurtling back up the ladder and rushing through Wraithmarsh.

_Reaver is in Bloodstone! He has NO idea what he's sailing into!_

Reaver

"Unnatural fog here, isn't it?" I commented. The men nodded, shivering. The fog _was_ unnatural. It seemed to permeate every fibre of one's being. I saw fearsome shapes in the fog, although it seemed simple tricks of the mind. Then we docked-and I saw something I never want to see again.

The white, deathly, floating form of a Queen Banshee. It screeched its deadly intentions, before slowly mocking each one of us.

"_You left her insulted. She will never look at you again. Every tender action, she will forget. She will come for you in the night, when your nightmares are high, and she will kill you with your own gun." _

"_Do not be so callous! You doomed an entire village to death for immortality! You don't even deserve to look at Sparrow! And yet your mind plays with you. There are so many things you wish to do, that you won't do…come with me, I'll stop her struggles and you can do them…every instinct…draw it out, hurt her for being like you. You hate people like yourself, yet you cannot stand to see them torn down." _I coughed.

"Bearing in mind, my dear, that I've already done a lot of things, surely missing out a few is healthy?" I commented. The Banshee dropped in front of me, and suddenly became Sparrow.

"You're pathetic, Reaver." She hissed, in a combination of her own voice and the Banshee's. "I could never think of you as anything past a disgusting pirate whose only pride comes from his looks and many conquests. When I next get the chance to kill you, I'll seize it."

"You expect me to believe your tricks?" I laughed. The Sparrow Banshee smiled coldly.

"Whoever said it was a trick?" And suddenly she was on the floor, waiting, looking at me the same way she had done two nights ago. "I know how I can look, Reaver. What I feel like. And you like that, don't you? Come and show me how much you like me." She purred. Her voice was insistent. I heard a scream, and was jolted from the illusion.

Sparrow

The Banshee grabbed me the minute I got close enough. The frickin' tendrils around her body had whipped out and tied me once I was in her vicinity. I noticed Reaver, staring down, confused, at his feet.

"_He thinks nothing of you, you whore. You slept with him willingly, because of five years' abstinence. You're disgusting and shameful. What would Alex say if he could see you now? He'd kill you himself." _I struggled blithely, looking hopefully at Reaver out of the corner of my eye. Would he wake up?

"_He would rather look at his own feet than you. Whore. But we know how you feel. What it is like to be rejected. Join us. We will show you your old love and give you a new one. You do not need this world."_ The Banshee hissed. The tendrils tightened, pulling me closer. I began to cry from the pain. She pulled me so close, I could feel the frozen fog emanating from her body. Suddenly, she plunged her freezing hands down my front, and the shock made me scream. Reaver snapped to attention, and the Banshee dropped me. It cackled.

"_So you would rather face death than be mine. No matter."_ She summoned her shadow children, and as Reaver flipped to join me, one of them slashed his thigh and he landed heavily, before groaning and remaining on the floor. He wasn't going to be aiding me. I drew my Red Dragon and fired in quick succession, laying low four of the five shadows. Then I kicked the last one into the water. The Banshee screamed, and weakened, limply holding her arms in front of her face, before I blew her invisible brains out and caught the dead rags from her vanishing body. My trophy. I hurried over to Reaver and poured health potions all over his cut. His eyelids fluttered. He was going to be okay.

"You're a Hero again." His voice wheezed. I nodded.

"I…I think so." I whispered. He cracked a smile.

"_Very_ cute." I smiled back, as he slowly pulled himself to his feet, leaning on me. "So, now that my leg is healing up nicely, why don't we go and spend the night somewhere more private?" I smirked.

"You really are rather one minded, aren't you, Reaver? Besides, I still haven't forgiven you for that 'lazy arse' remark."

"I try my best, darling, especially with someone like you. Also, I rather like your arse just the way it is." I grinned, chuckling.

"You never change."

"If I did, you'd die of shock." I blew some hair out of my face.

"You know it. But you also know this isn't permanent, right?" I told him. He quirked a brow.

"It was never meant to be, gorgeous. But since you mention it, why not make tonight…special? Really draw things out." I blushed, and, with his arm slipped around my waist, we walked towards his mansion.


	7. Chapter 7

I was leaning against the smithy, the next morning. Reaver and I last night…oh, I will never forget it. _Ever_. Period. He had betted me that he knew my body shape with a blindfold on, so I told him to prove it. Oh Avo, he proved it. Suddenly I heard a cry.

"273!" My head snapped around to gawp at the voice. But it couldn't be…had he been resurrected when I'd made my wish?

"B-Bob?" I gasped. He ran over to me, catching me up and swinging me around.

"It IS you! You've changed! For the better! Your hair…it's so _blonde_! Last time I saw you, you were a baldie." I grinned.

"My name is Sparrow, Bob." I reminded him.

"Oh yeah. It's so great to see you again!"

"How's Lil?" Bob waved a dismissive hand.

"She remarried. Chucked me out the house. I've been adventuring ever since."

"Oh." Now we were out of uniform and Spire protocol, with the added bonus of both being single, I was admiring him. He was of medium height and quite brawny. He was rugged. Oh my…he fit the bill. I stepped a little closer and tried out a kiss. He reciprocated. To say the least.

"Wow."

"Mmmmm." I purred. "You can live with me anytime. You're just my type." He grabbed my hair and pulled me into an alleyway.

"Same to you, sweetheart." He murmured, pulling my leg up and across him. I pushed closer and he grinned. "Are you willing to marry me, Sparrow?" He asked, slipping his hands inside my coat.

"Anytime." I replied, and we resumed kissing.


End file.
